I went to the Amaritapuri Ashram as a “when in Rome…” adventure in southern India, not as a seeker or pilgrim. I went with a (fairly) open mind, but didn’t anticipate to leave with a deeper connection to God and an unexpected strengthening of my faith…in Christianity.
Sure, I’ve always considered myself a “spiritual” person, but organized religion has never fully appealed to me. Too many scandals and anti-gay, anti-equality positions left me cold. Beautiful cathedrals and churches are interesting, but have always felt closest to God when out in nature. Mountain tops are my favorite place to marvel in God’s awesome power. The Painted Church, on the Big Island, Hawai’i, is my favorite church in the world for its simple, folksy feel and how it gloriously overlooks the turquoise sea.
Perhaps I was expecting something similar when I first thought of visiting an ashram on the coast of the Arabian Sea.
I fortuitously arrived to Amaritapura on Christmas Day. Lucky, because Amma, the ashram’s resident guru, was not away on one of her extended world tours. As my taxi driver drove away, I stood frozen the dusty, dirt path; partly trying to get my bearings and partly wondering if I should run before they brainwashed me.
People in flowing white clothes walked about, dreamy music was coming from just inside, and, inexplicably, the air smelled of fresh espresso.
A woman with a shaved head and white sari offered to show me to the international check in desk. We entered the ashram and I spotted a western style cafe and espresso stand on the left. To the right was an enormous open air hall with a large stage. Big screen monitors and cameras showed Amma was up there hugging people. Yep. Hugging. My guru is known as the “Hugging Saint” and that’s pretty much all she does. On this day, she would give out hugs from 11am until 2:30 am – without taking a single break. No food. No water. No bathroom break. Just hugging. She’s amazingly hugged some 30 million people over the past 30 years. I stared at the big screen, transfixed by the scene. Thousands of people were singing, praying, waiting their turn for a hug. It was surreal.
Suddenly, someone called out “DJ!” and ran up and gave me a big hug. I was confused. I had made an advance reservation, so I knew the ashram staff was expecting me, but did my blue pants and cowboy hat give me away? “How did you know me?” I asked the girl hugging me. “It’s me! Katja. From the taxi in Kochi!” she said.
Eight days earlier, my plane from Qatar landed in India at 3:30 am. I sleepily stood in line for a taxi, Katja had asked if I minded sharing my ride. We started chatting and quickly learned we both lived in Geneva (!) and were flying home on the very same flight, in three weeks time. I was delighted by the coincidence and impulsively suggested she meet me at Amma’s ashram, but Katja had brushed off the idea at the time, preferring to explore southern India without plans. Now, here she was- dressed all in white! I had so many questions. Had she received a hug from Amma? Was is transforming? Where was she sleeping? Was the ashram weird? Was the food ok? Was she brainwashed? How was the espresso? Before I could ask anything, Katja dashed off, calling out over her shoulder to me, “I’ll find you later! I have to report for my seva.”
Seva is voluntary service work performed without expectation of thanks or praise. I was looking forward to this part, and prepared to scrub floors or anything else asked of me, as long as it didn’t involve shaving my head.
Later, I found my assigned room in the Boy’s Hostel. I had anticipated sleeping on a straw mat, but instead found myself in a spartan room with four bunk beds and a small bathroom. My roommate was waiting for me. “Hi, I’m Cynthia” she said in a charming accent. “I’m from Geneva.” I felt dizzy. I had registered with my California address. How was it possible that of the 4,000 people staying at the ashram that week, my two first friends here were from my new hometown in Switzerland?
Cynthia showed me around and took me to the used clothing shop to procure something (anything) suitably white and flowy. I felt a bit like Maria from THE SOUND of MUSIC when she was given secondhand clothes before going out in the world. The ashram also has a branch of the state bank, a juice bar, on-site tailor, bookstore, and, of course, a gift shop. Oh, and you can buy treats to feed the resident elephant.
Around 11pm Christmas night, it was my turn to queue for Darshan to be in Amma’s presence and receive her hug. After 30 million hugs, it’s a fairly streamlined process, tokens are given out; people who were leaving the ashram are first, then locals (Indians) as they usually have to travel home that night and new arrivals are next. After going through the metal detector, I made it up to the stage around 1am.
I watched Amma’s devotees become enraptured just to be in her presence. I felt slightly nervous and tried to stay open and non-judgmental.
A grey haired German lady asked me if I had a mantra. Umm..no. I didn’t. She instructed me to ask Amma for one. I inched closer and closer, and eventually, Amma took me in her arms and held me close. She pulled back and I thought the hug was over, but she scooped me back up and hugged me again. I later learned that asking for a mantra meant I would receive another hug at the end of the session (2:45 am) when she whispered my mantra in my ear. Her hugs were very…nice. Amma smells of jasmine flowers and handed me a piece of candy- but other than thinking “Score! Three hugs on my first day!” I didn’t feel different or enraptured.
The next day I tried to acclimate to life at the ashram, doing my seva and attending bahjans, which I surprisingly found myself singing along to. How did I know the words? Was I brainwashed (already?!?) Ah, no. The ashram house band covered a Coldplay song that I have on my iPod. Whew.
I tried to sample everything at the ashram and follow the daily schedule, but no one is required to do anything, other than register for two hours of seva each day. Getting up at 4:00am was not fun, but I loved doing seva and especially the going to the beach meditation sessions.
4:50-6:00 Archana (Chanting of the 1,000 names of the Divine Mother)
6:30-7:30 Meditation at the beach.
9:00 Breakfast
10:00-13:00 Seva (selfless service)
13:00 Lunch
14:00-17:00 Seva
17:30-18:30 Meditation at the beach.
18:30-20:00 Bhajans (Traditional devotional songs)
20:00 Dinner
21:00- Darshan (when Amma is in residence) or prayer time
One evening, Amma performed a funeral blessing for an elder villager who passed away. Thousands crowded around the espresso bar and ashram entrance to pay their respects. I was struck by yet another surreal mix of ancient traditions and modern convenience entwined in the guru’s world.
On my last day, I was given a “priority” token to receive one more hug. Just before my turn, a translator asked if I wanted to say anything to Amma. On the fly, I asked if Amma could pray for the safety of my Habitat for Humanity team and the people in the path of Hurricane Thane in Pondicherry. Amma heard my request and hugged me tightly. She smiled and whispered something in my ear. My eyes filled up with tears and I heard myself say “Thank you, Amma. Thank you, Jesus.”
“Amma’s hugs and kisses should not be considered ordinary. When Amma embraces or kisses someone, it is a process of purification and inner healing. Amma is transmitting a part of Her pure, vital energy into Her children. It also allows them to experience true, unconditional Love. When Amma holds someone it can help to awaken the dormant spiritual energy within them, which will eventually take them to the ultimate goal of Self-realization.” — Amma (Amma often talks about herself in the third person.)
My experience at the ashram was probably not that unusual. Amma does not wish to convert nor does she ask anyone to forsake their religion. Rather, she says we all have a Devine Spark within and by leading a life of service and discipline, we can ignite that spark and become closer to God, taking us deeper into our own religion. While I don’t expect to start attending church regularly, I admit I’m hoping my time at the ashram keeps my “spiritual” self on the right track, with His love and compassion as my guideposts.
Amma says her only religion is love. I smell her jasmine perfume on my secondhand flowy white scarf and think: yes. I have faith in love. I have faith in the goodness of people. And, I realize, I have faith in the teachings of a simple man who was a carpenter’s son.
